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I look to agitate the waters of stagnation and linear control on my artistic journey. It’s a punishing path that exposes my flaws as a painter and I deliberately walk this path in the hope that I eventually arrive at a point of deriving a smidgeon of satisfaction with what I’ve produced.  Any flashes of perceived brilliance merely serve as an incentive to carry on chasing and catching that bit of magical dancing light, colour and painterliness.  My brain tells me to paint tight, but my heart screams the opposite.  Surely my heart will win come the day of reckoning?  For now there is little evidence of it.

The journey is as hard as I expect it to be.  Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy.